


A Place For Us

by aTARDISfullofotters



Series: Settling Down [1]
Category: British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, New house
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-06 23:05:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1875897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aTARDISfullofotters/pseuds/aTARDISfullofotters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first writing in my Benedict/ Sarah couple. </p><p>They buy a new townhouse. How will they take this change?<br/>Tons of cute fluff <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Place For Us

When Sarah and Benedict got married two years ago, they expected to stay living in their small flat near the busy streets of London that they both so dearly loved. But there they were. Standing in an empty flat, boxes in the moving van 4 floors below, ready to drive to the newly purchased house several miles away. The move from Hammersmith to Bloomsbury was far from long distance, but it felt like a million miles to them.

Sarah grew up in the sprawling suburbs of Chicago, Illinois, but had grown accustomed to busy cities. When she walked down the city street, she felt like she could disappear. Earbuds in, world out. Nobody made any notice to you. In the suburbs, however, there was nowhere to run.  
Benedict grew up in Hammersmith, near the Thames, in a large estate with expansive gardens. But he frequently inhabited Harrows school in his youth, and now, bigger and more major cities. He loved the constant rush of people.

The decision to move from a flat in the center of London to house close to the subway but not to the busy streets was a difficult one. They had both adapted to busy London life, but maybe the relative peace and quiet of a suburban house was just what they needed. They had talked with each other about needing more space... and starting a family. Raising a child in the thick of London was not what they wanted. A new life with a new house, close enough to work and the theater, was exactly what they needed.  
\----------  
The townhouse was much larger than they expected: Not mansion-large, but not small either--Just the right size for starting a family. Number 505 along a strip of properties on Wembley Street: It had red brick walls with thin fingers of ivy crawling across its facade; In the small front yard, luscious green grass and bushes were guarded by waist-high stone walls; Just beyond the wall, the dingy grey sidewalk held a black lamppost which would illuminate the street at night; Moving to the back of the house, a large balcony overlooked the backyard with a glorious garden. The house was minutes from the subway and some fairly busy streets. They would be able to escape the busyness of the city without completely leaving it behind. It was a slice of heaven in a world of constant rush. It made the move from city to suburban easier. It was perfect.

The ground floor held the living room and a kitchen from which a small dining room extended. A soft, white rug carpeted the living room. Six small, adjacent windows framed the sunlight streaming onto the floor and opposing wall. Moving up the stairs, one finds the master bedroom, master bathroom, and guest bedroom. The guest bedroom would probably be turned into a study or library. Finally, the second floor consisted of a guest bedroom and bathroom. Those would stay as their original purpose, in case anybody came to visit. Or if a child was on the way.  
\----------  
"What color should the walls be?" Sarah asked, leaning against the frame of the bedroom door.

They had just finished carrying the boxes in and piled them around the bedroom. Watching their handiwork, they decided to take a quick break.  
The room looked… messy but cozy. The pale, creamy walls contrasted with the brown boxes and the 4 pm sunlight coming through the white-trimmed windows. The dark bed frame leaning against the wall looked misplaced in the oasis of white and light brown. A large mattress sat on the floor. It was actually a fairly large bedroom, which meant plenty of room for a bookshelf or two.

"Blue?" Benedict replied, coming up behind her to wrap his arms around her waist. "But not a dark blue. A pale blue."

"Maybe. Depends on the color of the new sheets. And the curtains."

The bickering over the organization of boxes and the stress of unpacking had faded away. The anxiety of having a new home was beginning to emerge.  
Sarah was wearing her moving clothes: A t-shirt of some Model UN conference she had chaired about five years ago (or ten, time slips away when you’re having fun), paired with ripped jeans and Vans. A messy bun and bandana-turned-headband was used to keep her long blonde hair out of her face. Even when she was wearing clothes to get messy, she was appropriately matched and fashion-sensible.

Benedict had a dark blue t-shirt on and ripped jeans as well. His brown hair was growing out curly and long for an upcoming role on stage. The small bags under his eyes were evidence of the long nights that he’d spent preparing for interviews and various filmings.

Sarah turned around to kiss him. Her arms wrapped around his neck while his stayed around her waist. They fit together like puzzle pieces. Their lips met in a sweet kiss. Her nose bumped up against his cheek as she rose on her tiptoes to get a better angle.  
She pulled back to catch her breath, but he held on a little longer with his teeth on her lower lip. She made a little “mmm” of appreciation. Such a tease, she thought. Sarah settled back down on flat feet.

He breathed deeply, pressing himself closer to her. "I feel like I'm going to wake up and this is all a dream."

Sarah gave him another kiss. “It better not be a dream,” she sighed, eyes fluttering closed. She pressed her forehead against his.  
With his breath still mingled with hers, Sarah pulled away a little, and moved down to bury her face to where his neck meets chest, feeling his breath brushing lightly against the back her neck. He rested his head on top of hers, avoiding the bun with caution. He inhaled deeply, relishing the smell of new house and her sweet perfume. They stood there embracing, prolonging the intimate moment before they had to resume moving boxes to make room for the bed.

"Mmm," he sighed. “We should get started on the bed."

Sarah groaned, hiding her face farther into his chest. "I'm exhausted."

Benedict winced as her bun hit his face, but then smiled softly at his wife. He chuckled. She always was a stubborn one.

"I'm not sleeping on the floor," he said, giving her a little shove.

She sighed and left his arms. Picking her way around several large boxes labeled "Bedroom" in scribbled handwriting, she grabbed the brown wooden bed frame. Benedict made his way over to her, his long legs helping to step over the boxes with ease.

"If we finish fast can we try it out?" He asked after catching an eyeful of her ass.

She rolled her eyes, knowing her that no actual sleeping would take place if he wanted to “try it out”. "The only thing I'm going to be doing on this bed tonight is sleeping."  
\----------

"Do you want me to go grab food?" Sarah called out from the bedroom. There was now a bed frame with a mattress in the center of the room. Pale blue sheets from their old flat were tucked neatly into the corners. Pillows were haphazardly tossed on top as an afterthought.

"I'll get it. I saw a Chinese food place on the way here. I think I remember where it is." her husband called back from the living room where he was trying to clear a path of boxes to walk through.

"You go do that darling. I'll see how long that takes you." Sarah replied. She walked down the hardwood stairs, mentally noting that they would need washing. But that was for another day.

“Ohhhh, it’s not going to take me as long as the last time we were in Chicago.” Benedict taunted back.

That adventurous time in the Windy City had been Sarah’s fault. She got them lost for an hour while trying to find an artsy store in Chinatown she claimed she remembered from her childhood. She was absolutely sure of herself, despite Ben’s suggestion to stick to the GPS.

She hit him on the arm. “You bitch. You’re never going to let me forget that.”  
He laughed. The keys to the Jaguar jingled in his pocket as he stepped out the door.  
\----------

As soon as Ben was gone, Sarah felt anxious again. It was quiet, too quiet. It was the kind of quietness that deafens the ear with its silence.

She hated new places. Even though traveling frequently means getting stuck in hotel rooms often, new places still scare her. The new noises, unfamiliar corners, and general uneasiness of a place set her on edge. Being engaged in a conversation and having company are the only ways that help.  
Sarah chewed her lip as she took out her phone. At least there’s network, she thought. With a few taps, the sounds of Mumford and Sons filled the air. Well, music can ease the uneasiness, too.  
\----------

Coming home from his little errand, Benedict stuck his new key carefully into the door. This was so nice, coming directly into your house from the ground level. Much better than taking the elevator every day. There's so much more to look at. They could put flowers in the front yard: Yellow marigolds, tulips, a whole host of blossoms. Just like he remembered his mom did when he was little.

"I'm home!” He called as he stepped into the entrance. His voice echoed up the empty stairway to the bedroom, as he assumed that’s where Sarah would be. “It only took me 10 minutes to find it! That should be a new record."

He closed the door carefully, spinning the deadbolt close.

“Sure...” Sarah replied, as she walked out of the kitchen, “I've got enough supplies into the bathroom to last us a couple of days.”

He nodded and held up the plastic bag that contained several takeout boxes. “Food.”

“Kitchen,” she replied.

There were chairs, but no table; so they sat on the floor. Cross legged— just like two children about to play house.

"I found the docking station." She gestured to the rectangular box displaying the time on the LCD screen. Her iPhone, cased with a black and white geometric design, was stuck on top.

“Mumford and Sons. Appropriate.”

They set up the food, with chopsticks as utensils. As there were no dishes (yet!), they planned on eating straight out of the rectangular containers.

“I bought champagne,” Benedict said, pulling out a semi-opaque bottle of bubbly liquid. “And cups, because we’re not that uncivilized.”  
Sarah rolled her eyes.  
The birds outside had just finished chirping their daily tunes, and the sound of crickets floated in from the window occasionally. A final streak of sunlight streamed through the window. In 5 minutes, it would be gone. Dusk would come, and then nightfall.

Ben swallowed and turned to look lovingly at Sarah. “Do you remember when I first met you?” he asked.  
She smiled softly, remember four years ago. It seemed like a whole lifetime away.

“Yes… That day at the coffee shop. You gave some lame-ass pickup line.”

“I would ask you out for coffee, but I see you already have some.” he recited.

“And I thought it was the dumbest, most adorable thing ever.”

There was silence while both of them placed a bite-full of noodles into their mouth.

“You were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen then. You still are.”

Sarah smirked. “Nah. I doubt that.”

“I did marry you, didn’t I?”

“Touché.” She sighed.

“But really though. You were wearing… that dress. The one with the flowers. You were flustered because it was raining outside, and your hair was wet even though you had an umbrella. And you saw me and got all blushy. Wasn’t it because you had seen me as Victor Frankenstein the other day? You were waiting for your coffee, and when you said hello, I fell in love with everything about you.”

“C’mere you dork.”

She grinned and dropped the now empty container. Sarah’s smile is the kind that lit up her whole face, with eyes crinkling at the corners, and cheeks rosy with life, something Benedict loved dearly. She leaned over the little distance separating them to give him a kiss.

Her sudden action took Benedict completely by surprise. His eyes widened. His body got stuck in the dilemma of the desire to embrace the most wonderful thing in the world and the instinct to move away from anything unpredictable. The combined effect caused him to stay exactly where he was, though rather stiffened. It was almost awkward and most certainly comical if there were any witness about. But they were complete alone, and the world wiped clean out of his head. The almost empty noodle container lay on the floor by his side, dropped and forgotten in the commotion. For a moment time was frozen. Then her lips met his. Like a spell broken, fire sparked from the contact and burned along Benedict's veins right down to his toes, melting him from the inside. Driven by the need, his hands came up to hold her face, trying to feel more. His fingers brushed over her cheekbones, feeling the warmth rising to her perfect skin. For Benedict, he cannot get enough. He know he never will. He will forever hunger for those lips, the feel of her skin, the fire burning the very air around them.

“I'll never get tired of kissing you.” he whispered.

There is something perfect about moments like these that we can’t quite place a finger on. Perhaps it’s because life is all hustle and work, but once in a while, in a new house on Wembley Street, a couple gets to sit on the floor and eat Chinese takeout, laugh in each others arms, and not giving a bother about anything else in the world but each other. Then we know heaven on Earth is no mere myth. It exists in here, in a home where memories will be made. This is where Saturday mornings will happen. This is where two people will dance the night away to old love songs. This is where a child will grow up and say her first words and take her first steps.

“This is a place for us.” Sarah whispered back.

**Author's Note:**

> 10 million thanks to whispering_imp for editing this and w-is-for-writing on tumblr for the advice. :)  
> Likes/ feedback always appreciated.  
> benedictgotabooty.tumblr.com


End file.
